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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE Listen to the weeping willow weep, its cries echo against the Mountain sides, gentle is she the long lashed Spanish moss, Whom tenderly wipes away the each tear drop as they fall? Oh so softly mother winds caresses this timber child of the Wilderness, speaks ever so delicately hush now, everything Will be alright, in the swaying breeze doesn’t nature rock this Wood land spirit, lulling it to sleeps dreamy embrace of Everlasting beauty! Beneath the nights quilted blanket of darkness, the winking Stars of twilight watch over she, the weeping willow tree, Shinning nay not too brightly, as not to awaken the cradled Startling nestled within the forest nursery, hush now These sky beings softly whisper! The nearby babbling brook falls almost into a silent stillness, Crackling against the rocky rapids in smooth waves of Tranquility's peaceful motions! The pine giants spread out their forest canopy umbrella’s above, To comfort this newly planted forest child, beneath their ancient Evergreen wings of grace! Along the alpine mountain sides, the sunrises warmth baths The wild flowers within the dawn’s awakening rays, trickling Downwards in a golden cascade slowly, ever gently whispering It’s time to arise unto a new day! The creatures stir within their sleeping dins, drinking deeply From the morning dews refreshing crisp autumn air, As the first sounds of forest wilds sweep across the Green valley floor, announcing to begin life renewed Once more! Retracing shadows of the night fold inwardly within The hallows deepest depth, and the moon yawns With a slumbering goodnight's farewell, until sunsets Finally bidding calls upon him again, this ancient Timeless gentleman, hanging amongst the illuminated Universal heavens! Shifting clouds pass ideally by, seamlessly spreading wide As to allow the sunshine to gently spread sun kisses Upon the forest clover, growing at the base of the every Tree. Yet the weeping willow still cries, and when the others As her why, she responds in a somber moment’s reflection, I’m doing what is in my nature to do, I am after all Called the crying tree of the forest! BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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